She loves to give gifts...

~Nancy

Today Shannon and I worked together for almost twelve hours cleaning and packing up her classroom. All day I connected with the feelings that she expressed as she struggled with what to keep and what to throw away. Nobody but another teacher knows, understands, and appreciates the work that is involved in creating new and exciting lessons for our students and the memories that are attached to the day we share those lessons with our kiddos.

We talked about so many of them as we threw away things; things like paper logs and tissue flames that were used in the classroom campfire where her students sat in a circle as a little fan hidden under the logs "fueled" the fire as she read to her students dressed up for "Cowboy Day".

We looked at posters and lessons that I had given to her as we both moved between grade levels.

My heart smiled as she stored back the posters that had hung in her bedroom when she grew up, and in her first classroom after she began teaching.

These were also packed away for another day, another classroom, or another teacher...

~Nancy

~Nancy

Mammoth sunflower seeds between the Peony bushes.

The promise of 100 days until 12 feet flowers lift their heads to the sun.

Stay tuned...

~Nancy

A mother died last night, 
leaving behind her owlet.

Today I watched as the orphan attempted flight and finally found shelter from the warm midday sun underneath a shrub. 

My friend, Ron Ghere, saved it from the traffic and after calls to the Raptor Center, 
felt confident that its best chance at survival was to return it to nature.

This afternoon, as I sat on my porch listening to the neighborhood,
I took a quick inspection of the Robin's nest under the eaves.
Yesterday the three young robins filled the nest to overflowing, 
and I wondered if they had fledged.

One lone baby sat tall in the nest
afraid to take that first step to independence.
His mother was nearby offering frantic words of encouragement,
as she divided her attention between the baby clinging to the nest and his siblings who were discovering the world of grass below in the front yard.

Finally, Mama perched close to the nest tempting the fledgling with a ripening raspberry plucked from our bushes . 

This was all he needed as incentive to take first flight.

Spring is a busy time for mothers.
Independence requires patience and love as babies learn to face the world independently.

It feels a bit like teaching as we give our students hugs and best wishes and send them out the door to the next step in their lives...

~Nancy

Sunday. 
Spring.
May.
Family.
Friends.
Brunch. 

Waffles.

Banana pie.

Strawberry pie.

Italian tomato salad.

Joanne's Italian homemade bread.

Crispy fried chicken.

Italian flowers.

Homemade home-grown gifts from the girls.

Cards.

And more cards.

Mom = Wow!

~Nancy

Every spring, as soon as the sprouts begin to emerge through the warm soil,
the cages are pushed into the ground to prop up their stems and heavy buds.

If a spring rain doesn't beat them down,
all of your care and concern ends in flowers that belong in a Dutch still-life or on a Japanese silk scarf.

Instead, I'm fortunate enough to enjoy them in a vase through the days of May.

~Nancy

…is often my answer to, “Where are you going?
Would you like to come along?”

After retiring last May,
I was asked to take a substituting job for an extended leave-of-absence in my old classroom.

Monday of Week Nine of my extended gig
began with a week of PTA “acts of appreciation” for Teacher Appreciation Week.

Although I appreciate the amount of time, creativity, organization, and work that goes into this,
I’ve never really felt the need for this week.

I need much more,
and I mean MUCH more, 
the support of the parents whose children come to my classroom to learn.

Appreciation for what I do is not necessary.

What I do involves being a responsible adult who goes to work every single day I am able,
and doing my job in the best way I know how…

and then some.

And then some…
a LOT.

All week long we’ve all received notes reminding us how we,
as teachers,
touch lives.

Don’t we all?

And by “we”,
I mean, every single one of us?

And yet,
I’m human.

There are days when “that kid” gets under my skin.
Not the one who is picking apart the eraser and whose desk is stuffed full of incomplete assignments.

Not the student who sees everything in reverse order.

Not the student who can’t read, but can find the volume of a cone.

Not the student who suddenly lashes out in a violent outburst.

My room is filled with children with “special needs”.
Some of them can’t focus on anything for more than a “Nano-second”.
Some talk to themselves,
and some sleep on their desks with their heads covered with their jacket.

Those are not “that kid”.

For me “that kid” is the one who is rude, inconsiderate, and mean to others.
Many times “that kid” has a life the other children can only dream about,
and parents who think “that kid” can do no wrong.
“That kid” never takes responsibility for hurting others.
It is always someone else’s fault,
or someone else is doing it, too,
so why should they be punished?

That is the kid that makes me feel bad about myself at the end of the day.

That is the kid that I lose sleep over because of the way “that kid” makes me feel about teaching,
and myself.

On Friday of Week Nine I arrived wondering if I would return for Monday of Week Ten.

Having lost a fair amount of sleep, I was tired, but determined to make it a good day.
I would hang onto my patience and try my best to “teach with love”.

As my students were working with a new set of vocabulary words,
one of the my “special” students suddenly asked,

“Mrs. Brachbill, did you put these words in alphabetical order for us?”

“Yes. Yes, I did”

“I really, really appreciate that!”

Soon the others began chiming in with the same sentiments.

I told them that I really appreciated that they noticed and that I,
in some way,
made them happy.

Soon after, another student came to my desk to show me, with a big smile,
her “favorite shirt”.

I told her how much I loved her shirt, and gave her a hug.

While some of her classmates didn’t “get” her shirt,
I told them that we “got it”, and that was the most important thing.

As she walked back to her desk, to curl up under her jacket,
I returned to helping another student with a math problem,

and it was then,
in my head,
silently in a voice only I could hear,
that I decided that I would be back on Monday of Week Ten.

~Nancy

Almost.

I stopped to smell the flowers.

The first peony bloom amazingly white, pure, and fragrant in the warm early sun.

~Nancy

...is the reason I'm back in the classroom.
Today was his first visit to meet his mommy's "teacher friends".

Sweet, sweet Baby Luke.

~Nancy